


A Constant Distraction

by skellingfish



Series: Bill and Ford [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Human Bill Cipher, M/M, bill doesn't understand his feelings, but still super cute, copious sad fluff, ford is grumpy and confused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6293059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skellingfish/pseuds/skellingfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ford finally kicks Bill out. The demon sulks outside for a week. The two of them struggle with some unwanted emotions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Constant Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> I highkey killed my beta writing this. Currently planning her funeral (it's in three days if you want to pay your respects).
> 
> Just kidding. I think.
> 
> Thank you to @Lady_Frost for inspiring this whole thing with her comment on my other story, Daydreams, which you should definitely check out if you're BillDip trash.
> 
> Without further adieu, please enjoy this shitty one shot.

 

It was when Bill Cipher proudly presented him with a literal heart that Ford had finally had enough. The organ was still warm. He shuddered, scooping it off his desk and directly into the trash, trying to ignore the trails of thick, sticky blood that it left.

“Please Bill, what did I tell you.”

“C’mon Sixer, I know you’re busy, but can’t you just take a little break?”

“No. I can’t.” He picked up his pencil and continued marking up his page in his chicken scratch handwriting.

“Aw you’re no fun!”

Ford froze, his fist clenching, snapping the pencil in half. “Jesus fuck Bill I am so _tired_ of this. You’re supposed to be helping me.”

“And that’s what I’m doing. All work and no play doesn’t exactly make the creative juices flow, Fordsy.”

“Yes,” He tossed the broken pencil into the open garbage. The heart made an unpleasant squelching noise. “that’s all very well, but I want to further my scientific career, not have to deal with constant distractions.”

“But—“

“—because that’s what you are,” Ford continued, interrupting Bill. “a constant distraction. And I have had enough of this.”

He stood up, and even though he was shorter than the demon’s human form, he was built better and still managed to be intimidating. Bill, an all powerful and timeless being of pure energy (who happened to currently be inhabiting this spindly meatbag) took an instinctive step backwards. It must have been the human affecting him.

“Out.” Ford growled. “I need to work.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m telling you to leave.” Ford said. “So go.”

Bill gave him a long, cool look. He narrowed his eyes, pupils shrinking into tiny lines within his yellow irises.

“Right. I’ll go. But you can bet your worthless human life I’ll be back by the time your mediocre sun rises.”

“Whatever,” Ford rubbing his eyes. “just leave.”

When he opened his eyes, the demon was gone.

 

 

That night, Ford pored over his compiled research. It was late when he found the answer to his problems. His eyelids were growing heavy as he set out to gather what he needed, trudging through the tangled forest. He tripped twice, and uttered a string of expletives so strong that his mother was probably turning in her grave.

By the time he’d finally reached his destination, he was exhausted, filthy, and bleeding from numerous scratches inflicted by the brambles that ran rampantly throughout the forest. On top of all of this, Stanford Pines was certainly in no mood to argue with a pink sparkling pony.

Yet that was exactly what he had to do.

“But you’re not PURE!” the unicorn shrieked, it’s voice raised in a high desperate cry. “I simply cannot give you _any_ of my precious, magical mane.”

“Look, I was here two years ago for the same thing and I know this is all bullshit—“

“Such LANGUAGE!” the creature whined, covering its slender pink ears with shimmering hooves. “You certainly aren’t PURE enough to get any of my magic. PLEASE! Do not return; your disgusting immorality is damaging my DELICATE constitution. You must—“

“ _Enough!_ ” Ford roared. He was a quiet man usually, however he was tired of this whole fucking situation. It had only been after scouring his store cupboards for any unicorn hair and triple checking his notebooks other alternatives that he’d been able to muster the willpower to make this trip.

 _Unicorns are jackasses,_ he thought. _they deserve this._

With that in mind, he decked the horse, ripped out a fistful of mane, and made a break for the woods.

 

 

“Good mo-o-orning Sixer! The sun it shining, the birds are singing, and I’m – _what in the name of all things unholy_?”

Ford smiled to himself from inside the house. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of pink. The barrier he had installed was working.

Slowly, he got up, picking his way over the piles of books and scientific equipment to the door. It swung open with a creak. Bill glared at him from just outside the porch, his left hand outstretched. He had pressed it against the glow of the bubble surrounding the house.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I told you that you couldn’t come back. I’ve locked you out.”

“You _what_?” Bill looked shocked ( _Damn human form, betraying his emotions like that. This would have been so much more impassive as a triangle._ )

“I’ve locked you out.” Ford repeated. “Now I can keep working without you.”

“You can’t!” the demon hissed, his jaw tensing in fury. “You _cannot_. We had a deal.”

“Our deal was just letting you possess me and in return helping me out. But I’ve given you a human form. You could say I’ve taken the deal a step farther. You don’t have to possess me now. You don’t even have to help me – you’ve taught me everything I need to know.”

“But we had a deal! Stanford you can’t just _do_ this to me.” Bill started the sentence at full volume, but by the last word his voice had dropped to a low whisper, just ghosting the edge of Ford’s hearing.

“I can do whatever I want.” said Ford, trying not to read into the demon’s tone. He shut the door in Bill’s face and took a three-hour nap.

_Hm,_ Ford thought. _Almost out of brown meat._

It had been a day since he’d thrown the demon out of his life. Ford had spent it sleeping and working in equal parts, trying to drown out all thoughts of Bill Cipher.

Finally he gave up, unable to concentrate. He closed his journal and stood up. _Might as well stock up now before I forget again._

Ford sighed, making his way to the front door. He checked his watch. 7:00 PM. The sun had sunk in the sky, dying in a flash of blood red along the horizon. He preferred to go into town under the cover of complete darkness, but this would have to do. The weirdos of Gravity Falls probably went to bed at five in the afternoon anyway. He shook his head, a flash of longing for his Jersey home flaring in the pit of his stomach. He pushed it away, and opened the door.

Ford had to clamp his mouth shut to stop himself from yelling in surprise. Bill sat, leaning against the barrier, his knees tucked up into his chest, his hands drawn into his sleeves. He turned towards the door as he heard it open.

“Sixer?”

Ford closed the door. He didn’t need brown meat _that_ badly.

 

 

Ford did not leave his house, at all, for _anything_. He stayed inside and very carefully did not think about who was waiting for him. Ford didn’t have time for Bill. He didn’t have time for distractions. But something kept him from his work. He played it off as cabin fever. _This is all Bill’s_ _fault_.

He tore out a page of his journal and crumpled it up, tossing the half finished sketch of a siren’s dwelling into the open garbage can. He needed to get _outside_.

He glanced out the window, and to his surprise, Bill was nowhere to be seen. Cautiously, Ford opened the window. He stuck his head out, peering around. The demon had vanished.

Ford weighed his options. This was shady, to say the least. There was quite a large chance that the demon had just hidden himself somehow and would appear to pester Ford again. But on the other six-fingered hand, he really couldn’t get any work done in this mind frame, and he’d have to go out sooner or later to restock fairy dust.

He pulled on his trench coat, turning the collar up, and grabbed his satchel from where it hung by the door. Stuffing his feet into his heavy iron toed work boots, he set off over the porch and down the stairs. The second one down let out an earsplitting creak and he froze, checking his surroundings for what felt like the fiftieth time in thirty seconds.

Nothing. The demon was nowhere to be seen.

“Of course.” Ford muttered. At some point (he wasn’t sure when), he’d started talking to himself. He usually had the demon for company and Ford had gotten into the habit of letting his thoughts fall straight out of his mouth.

“I was probably just a toy to him. _I_ was the distraction. Bet he’s found someone else to aggravate.”

Ford stomped off through the forest, weaving his way between the trees. He complained bitterly the whole way, the anger desperately trying to gloss over the constant, dull throb in his chest. _Bill’s gone._

“I never liked him.” he spat. “I hated him.”

He narrowed his eyes, stopping dead in his tracks. The wind whispered through the trees around him, the leaves around his feet twitching.

“I hate you, Bill Cipher—!”

There was a crunch behind him, like a stick snapping in two. Ford whirled around, shutting his mouth with a snap. His heartbeat rose like a drum in his throat.

But the clearing was empty except for him.

Ford felt the hairs on the nape of his neck prickle. He was being watched, he could feel it. Sure, it could have just been a woodland animal, but Ford had studied Gravity Falls long enough to know that was the least likely explanation. There were other creatures lurking here, ones powerful enough to remain unseen at their will. He wished he could take back his careless noisiness and hurried quickly on.

From the trees, Bill watched with invisible eyes. He cursed his human form. The noise had been caused by an involuntary step forwards.

“But I don’t make involuntary motions!” the demon said to himself. Like Ford, he’d gotten used to the constant company. “It’s this damned human form! It’s affecting my mind. It’s all these—“

He waved his invisible arms around, flustered.

“It’s all these chemicals.” Bill finished finally.

He looked back wistfully the shack through the trees, it’s pink bubble-like shield glowing softly.

This was all Ford’s fault.

The rain had lulled Ford into a gentle sleep. He jerked awake to the shatter of broken crockery. His elbow had nudged his empty coffee cup off the desk. Outside, wind whipped around the house. The old pine boards groaned under the strain of the deluge.

Ford stood reluctantly, picking up smashed bits of crockery. He tossed them into the garbage (where the odor of the heart was beginning to permeate the room), and stretched his arms high above his head. He’d been avoiding the outside all day, covering the evasion of the demon waiting for him with the excuse of the bad weather.

He ambled into the kitchen, setting some water to boil. Automatically, he reached for two mugs, but let his left hand drop at the last minute and retrieved only one instead. Ford poured himself a cup of hot water, and dropped a tea bag into the water. Steam rose from the surface like thick fog rising from a lake. He watched the tea slowly diffuse through the water, humming to himself as he did so. Yes, this was what he needed: a hot cup of tea, cozy (and _alone_ ) in his lab, while he finished another page of his journal. Maybe, if he worked extra hard, he could finish his entire section on the ‘butternut squash with a human face and emotions’ tonight.

He picked up his tea, turning to go back into the basement. Suddenly outside, lightening crackled through the air. Thunder snapped at its heels, growling a second later. Ford felt a wave of panic crash over him. _The camera!_

He’d sent it up the week before, tying it carefully to a balloon. Bill had spooled out the rope until it floated jauntily above the shack, securing it to a nearby tree in an overly complicated knot. All week it had been collecting images of will-o’-the-wisp migratory patterns. A little water couldn’t do much to the camera itself, but one zap of a lightning bolt would fry it completely. It’d be a whole year before the exodus would repeat itself at this magnitude. He couldn’t afford to lose that data.

He didn’t even register his fingers slipping from the handle of the mug. His ears didn’t hear the crash as yet another piece of crockery shattered (although he’d curse his carelessness for breaking more dishes once the storm died down). He raced to the door, putting the presence of the demon waiting for him out of his mind for the first time all week. Bill jumped to his feet in surprise as the scientist hurtled through the door. Ford’s boots sank into the thick, slippery mud as he leapt from the porch, clearing the steps.

“Bill! Help me reel in the camera.” He said it without thinking, the words tumbling frantically from his mouth as his twelve fingers scrabbled for purchase on the slick cable holding the weather balloon. “Bill?”

Suddenly he felt a warmth beside him, another body clinging to the cable. Ford looked over at Bill, who was tugging hard on the balloon, pulling it down hand over hand, his jaw set with concentration.

Something a bit like relief blossomed in Ford’s chest. He gritted his teeth, and heaved on the rope. Together, the two of them hauled the balloon from the sky. Icy needles of rain bit into the exposed skin of Ford’s neck, where his pajamas ended. His hair stuck to his forehead in sodden tangles. Bill snatched up a stretch of rope and secured the camera down with one of his overly complicated knots as soon as it was near enough. They were both panting by the end, their breath coming in short gasps.

“C’mon,” Ford had to raise his voice above the howling wind. He jerked his head towards the house. “Let’s go inside before one of us gets struck by lightening.”

Bill grinned, shaking the water from his golden hair.

“This storm’s nothing compared to the solar flare happening two dimensions over!”

Ford didn’t reply, setting out towards the house. He was secretly glad things seemed back to normal. The week without Bill had been a sad and lonely one. But as they reached the house, Bill yelped and jumped back, clutching his hand as if it had been burned.

“That shield’s still up, Fordsy.”

“Right, of course.”

Bill looked up at him through the pink tinged bubble around the shack. “You’re going to take it down, right?”

Ford didn’t meet his eyes. “Of course. I’ll take it down. I’ll just grab some scissors from inside and cut the unicorn hair.”

Bill nodded, surprisingly trusting, his lips quirking into a smile. “Go for it, Sixer. I’ll wait here in this pathetic excuse for a storm.” He snapped his fingers, and a smart yellow umbrella appeared in his outstretched hand.

Ford kicked off his boots, turning them upside down to drain the water from them. His socks were soaked through, and he quickly realized the rest of him was well. (Bill noticed this too, especially the way his clothes clung awkwardly to his body. The demon shook his head, wishing away the unwanted thought.)

As soon as Ford had disappeared into the house, he closed the door and locked it. No, he couldn’t let Bill back in, no matter how lonely Ford was. He’d come too far to give up, and the friendship he and Bill had shared would have to join the long list of sacrifices he’d made. A future of fame and riches, the companionship of Fiddleford, and most importantly his own brother Stanley: they’d all been surrendered in the name of science. Letting Bill in would put him above them all. It would invalidate everything he’d given up. He shook his head sadly, picking up the shards of the broken teacup. Bill would have to stay out of his life, at least for the time being.

 

Outside, Bill stood in the rain, his umbrella whipping about in the rain. He stood until his fingers grew numb from the cold, until his arm shook with the strain of holding itself up, until a gust of wind caught the umbrella and ripped it from his deadened hands. Bill’s arm dropped to his side, clenching into a fist. His boots sank slowly into the mud as the rain pounded around him. Some part of him knew that Ford wasn’t coming back, that he’d choose science over anything in this worthless plane of existence.

But there was something else about this anthropomorphic form. Bill had never been a human this long; he’d never let the chemicals in his physical brain affect him so much. The demon knew full well that he could not inhabit a vessel without taking on at least _some_ of the characteristics of the species. If he became a bear in winter, he’d suffer a constant fatigue. If he became rabbit in the spring, he’d have constant physical desires usually abhorrent to him. But when he had become a human, something very different had happened. He inherited _hope_.

Bill knew about hope. It was something that could be manipulated, a weakness to be exploited. It was something that happened to _other_ beings, not to him. He had never experienced such a pointless emotion, but here it was, a cautious feeling fluttering in the pit of his stomach.

And although he knew he’d been abandoned to the storm, that Ford would never again work by his side, that another chapter of his endless life had been completed, Bill waited, hoping that somehow all the usual laws of the universe would bend just enough to let Stanford Pines change his mind.

 

 

_Never make a deal with a demon._

That was the first thing that Ford had learned while studying the occult. The warnings were everywhere. Legends, stories, myths: they all had one thing in common. Demons were tricksters. They always found a way through any loophole.

They always found a way to stab you in the back.

Ford filled the kettle, swallowing hard. Bill hadn’t been the one to betray their mutual trust, and Ford could feel guilt eating away at him like acid. He bit the inside of his mouth, setting the kettle on to boil, and tried to push the unwanted thoughts away. Outside, the rain had begun to die down.

But he couldn’t live like this. Ford just couldn’t bring himself to just bury his head in the sand, to swallow what he was feeling inside. He’d done that enough, and sooner or later, he’d have to confront what his own emotions.

“You can’t do this.”

It pained him to say it aloud, but as soon as his ears registered the words, he knew it to be true. He had indeed abandoned others in the past. He had left his own brother behind. But that didn’t mean he had the will or the want to do it again. Seeing others leave him hurt enough. He didn’t want to have to do that to someone else. Before he could stop himself, he’d stood up and snatched the kitchen scissors from the drawer to the left of the sink.

For a long moment, Ford looked at the scissors in his hand. He had he opportunity to give mercy, to mend the deal. To abandon his friend would be to become a demon himself, and he swore to himself he could never do that.

The kettle whistled, shattering his thoughts. Slowly, he put the scissors back onto the counter. Ford poured himself a cup of tea, snatching the second cup from the shelf and filling that with boiling water too. He waited precisely four and a half minutes (because to Ford, tea making was a science), counting the numbers in his head to try and calm his nerves. Then tossed the tea bags into the garbage, pocketing the scissors and picking up the teacups. He kicked the door open and disappeared through it.

The demon was hunched over, his face concealed by mats of soaking wet golden curls. He looked up at the sound of Ford’s footsteps, his eyes widening. Ford took a seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. He held out his hand, and offered Bill the steaming mug of tea through the barrier. Bill didn’t respond for a moment, then reached out and gingerly took the cup from him.

The rain had stopped. The only sound was the occasional drop falling from the bows of the trees or from the gutter above them. The wind sighed, and Ford shivered.

Finally Bill spoke.

“So you’re here.”

“I am.”

“Are you going to let me in?”

Ford didn’t reply, just took out the scissors and snipped the air.

Bill took a swig of his tea. “I thought this was over.”

“What?”

“ _This_.” The demon gestured to the both of them vaguely. “I thought you’d never take me back.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Bill. Of course I’m taking you back.”

“But I was distracting from—“

“ _Please Bill_. You’re a fucking demon. The least you could do is stop being such a dumbass. How could you ever think I’d throw you out for good?”

Bill didn’t reply, looking at him with wide yellow eyes.

“Oh.” he said, biting his lip. He quickly downed the rest of his tea, placing the cup on the ground beside him.

Ford sighed, hesitating a moment before reaching down to cut the silvery strand of unicorn hair stretching the perimeter of the house. _Is this the right thing to do?_

 _Yes._ Without a second thought, he cleanly snipped the thread.

The barrier burst with a soft sigh, growing thin in some places before fading all together. A slow smile spread over Bill’s face, as he cautiously leaned back through where the shield had been moments before. He rested his weight on Ford’s outstretched legs, his head falling into his lap.

“Thank you.” Bill murmured, looking up into Ford’s eyes. Ford looked away, embarrassed.

“It’s n-nothing,” he cursed the way his voice stuttered, taking a sip of his tea. _Why am I still nervous?_

The demon’s eyes shifted from Ford to the sky, his grin fading into a tiny smile just curling his lips. Bill now understood why humans dared to hope. It was more than worth the gamble. But there was still a tiny flicker of hope inside him, desirous of something else. His small smile turned to a thoughtful frown. _What else could I possibly want?_

He looked back at Ford, who quickly shifted his eyes away. Bill’s frown deepened a little. His human form was pulling him upward, trying to close the gap between him and Ford. _Why?_ he asked himself. This desire, these feelings like fireworks in his chest, they were all new to him. He straightened up, sitting beside his friend. The steps to the porch creaked softly as he shifted closer.

He could sense that Ford was nervous too, his ability to read minds dulled by his physical form. He could feel the other’s heart pounding in his chest. At this close proximity, the constant rhythm was all he could hear.

“You’re nervous.” he said aloud, falling back into the habit of speaking without thought.

“No I’m not.” Ford said, his eyes widening. Bill knew it was a lie.

He fought himself, holding his physical form back.

“I...” His voice trailed off, something like fear rising in his chest. _I’m confused._

_Why do I want to lean towards him?_

There was a long moment of silence. Finally Ford spoke.

“Look, Bill, I—“ His voice stammered as he tried to get his thoughts out. “I just—“

He broke, laughing nervously. “Listen to us. Can’t seem to find the right words, can we?’

Bill shook his head. “I guess we can’t.”

“I guess I’m just saying I’m glad to have you back.” Ford tried to digest the butterflies in his stomach. He blinked, finally meeting the demon’s eyes.

And all at once, Bill was leaning towards him, and Ford was frozen. He felt lips on his, halting and awkward (in Bill’s defense, he’d never even heard of a kiss before today).

Shocked, Ford jerked away, getting quickly to his feet.

“You just—“ He closed his mouth, for once keeping his thoughts to himself.

 _Bill kissed me. The_ demon _kissed me._

Ford turned, afraid his feelings would spill from his lips, and quickly pushed the door opened. He disappeared, leaving Bill sitting shocked on the steps.

 _Idiot._ Bill cursed himself, his cheeks burning with humiliation. _You shouldn’t have hoped._

Ford bit his lip to stop himself from smiling. _Bill likes me. Like_ like _likes me._

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. The feelings he’d been pushing down boiled up inside him, and he shut his mouth hard on a laugh trying to break from his throat.

_Bill likes me._

Slowly, he took another breath, telling himself firmly not to be childish. I had to behave like an adult, since Bill clearly had no idea how to handle this new terrain. Ford couldn’t help but feel at least a little giddy (he hadn’t had a significant other since high school, and he’d forgotten how anxiety provoking thinking about this kind of thing could be).

_No, no Ford slow down. It was just a kiss. It doesn’t mean he likes me. Maybe he was just... uh... experimenting. Don’t jump to conclusions._

“Right, right.” he mumbled to himself. “Don’t get carried away. Just because I feel this way doesn’t mean he does too.”

 

 

Bill looked down at his hands. “Great, I’ve fucked it _all_ up. And now my eye’s leaking.”

He sniffed, wiping his tears away. He turned his head, casting a glance at the firmly closed door to the house. Now that there was no barrier, he could come and go as he pleased, but did he _want_ to?

“Maybe I’ve done enough waiting.”

He stood up. Stretching his arms above his head.

“Maybe I should just go. He let me back in, that’s enough of a miracle. Two in one night is a little much to ask.”

He held out his hand, ready to snap his fingers and disappear into another dimension. Bill took a deep breath, picturing his destination in mind. _The 36th dimension to the left, and get me there in double time._

“Wait!”

Ford closed the door behind him, standing steadily on the porch.

“Please don’t go.” he said quietly.

Bill’s eyes widened, his pupils dilating to an almost unnatural size.

“You don’t want me to leave?” he asked.

“What? No! Of course not!” Ford took a step towards him. Bill didn’t drop his outstretched hand, still prepared to disappear into the void of time and space.

“But I thought I’d ruined everything.” Bill said, sniffling a little (damn this human form, demons most certainly do _not_ sniffle, whatever it may look like).

“Bill stop being a dumbass. You didn’t ruin anything. I thought I’d made it apparent.”

“Wait, so you wanted to...” Bill searched for a word, but he didn’t actually know what he’d done, so he let the sentence drop. His arm was beginning to get tired from holding itself up.

“Kiss you.” Ford supplied. “Yes, I wanted to kiss you. Jesus, I was staring at your lips half the night!” His gaze dropped to the floor. “I always just thought it was a lost cause because you’re y’know, a demon.”

“What? I thought I’d made it clear.”

Ford didn’t reply, not meeting Bill’s eyes.

“I gave you a fucking heart Sixer, how much more clear do I have to be?”

For a moment, Ford said nothing.

“I guess we’re both dumbasses then,” he replied finally.

Bill sniffed again. His eyes were still leaking; the relief hadn’t sunk in yet.

Ford crossed the porch in two strides, taking Bill’s hand so he couldn’t disappear. He laced his fingers through the demons, dropping his arm to his side.

“Please don’t go Bill. I know I never should have locked you out.” He reached up with his other hand and wiped away the tears staining Bill’s flushed cheeks. “I promise I’ll never shut you out again – just please don’t leave me.”

They stood there in silence a moment. The sky had begun to grow lighter in the distance, right along the horizon.

He watched Bill. The demon wasn’t moving, staring blankly past him.

Another moment passed. Ford stretched up and gently pressed his lips to Bill’s (he had to stand on the tips of his toes to reach).

Bill stayed frozen at first, unsure how to react. Slowly he softened, his free arm draping over Ford’s shoulder. Bill squeezed Ford’s hand, pulling away just a moment.

“I promise I’ll stay.” he said. “I promise I’ll stay with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I might write more of this?? I don't know.


End file.
